Ascendant
by EmilyAmbrose
Summary: A Chicago college student triggers with a parahuman ability that lets her open gates to another plane and uses them to dole out malicious acts of revenge. Abilities, OC capes, and some minor plot points inspired by Destiny 2, but the story assumes no knowledge of the game. Original character. Starts before Worm.
1. Let's be bad guys

**Beginning notes:** Worm / Parahumans is property of Wildbow. I'm using his stuff because I'm not that creative. Some stuff is also inspired by Destiny 2; suck it, Activision. Spoilers for Worm but NOT Ward.

* * *

**Chapter 1: Let's be bad guys...**

The convention center wasn't hard to find. Although I'd never had want or reason to visit it before now, the sprawling, multi-block building was often on the news for the Protectorate meet-and-greet conventions they hosted every couple years, and it was one of the cornerstones of the southern part of downtown Chicago.

That being said, I couldn't say I _enjoyed_ having the place in the city. It wasn't somewhere the average joe typically visited, except if they wanted to pay the $200 to $300 entry fee and the additional $60 parking permit for a day pass. The traffic around the place seriously sucked, too.

I sneered and adjusted the laptop satchel on my shoulder, pushing past the people in line for the convention, and headed for the car park that was around the corner. The security lingering outside and the various twenty-to-thirty-something reporters in the queue didn't pay me any mind as I went.

That was good. I didn't want to be noticed here; I wanted everyone to see me as just another reporter looking to get the latest on the FCC's chairman, who was hosting a two-hour talk on his anti-encryption policies that he hoped would go through in the fall so that government agencies like his and the FBI could more easily access suspects phones and computers.

The guy was honestly _scum_, but he was selling his platform on national security, and it was _very _hard to argue against that — he'd been on some of the local radio shows last week debating listeners who called in.

FCC Chairman Alan Pulaski had only just recently pushed through bills that dismantled net neutrality and the goddamn thing _passed_. I hadn't noticed any significant difference _yet_, but the guy was clearly taking some kind of compensation from the ISPs and a lot of us online were pretty pissed about it.

And that's _sort of_ why I'm here, now. Because the guy is _scum_ and I had been looking for some kind of justification to finally use my powers — that wasn't just straight-up crime — since I had triggered last month.

I rounded the corner and headed up the ramp to the secure parking garage, when I eyed the security guard who was sitting in the little telephone-booth-sized toll booth. My heart started throbbing behind my eyes. Oh...

_Oh god, don't pass out…_

Why hadn't I checked to see if there'd be someone watching the exit ramp? _Of course_ there would be. Oh god oh god ohgodohgod.

"Uh, Ma'am?" the uniformed guard sighed, laxidasilly stepping out of the booth and holding up his hand. "This is the parking exit only; visitors have to enter through the security gate around the corner," he pointed back the way I had come.

I eyed his hip out of instinct, but didn't see a gun. I was still frozen in place, though. What do I do? Do I make a jump now? My eyes widened at the thought.

_Oh god, he can see my face_.

Some cape I was. I didn't even _consider_ encountering anyone. Stupid. Stupid!

"Uh…" I croaked, swaying. This was such a bad idea. "I was…"

"Hey," he frowned, his look of boredom melting into one of concern. His eyes flashed down my form, looking for a gun or for an injury, I couldn't tell. "Are you okay, miss? Do you need help?"

Mouth dry, I turned to run. I couldn't do this. I didn't want to do something this _crazy_ anymore if it meant my face would get out. I stumbled on the uneven surface and staggered back down the ramp and toward the sidewalk, my heart still racing.

And then something _grabbed_ me and I shrieked, flinching away. Flinching _far away_.

My ears popped and the breezy, warm Chicago air dissipated in a flare of light, leaving me stumbling to my knees on the jagged edge where the concrete parking ramp met the sidewalk — or, _would_ have met the sidewalk.

The dark and unending abyss yawned out far and below the ledge of the floating piece of ramp I had brought with me to the other side, chunks and pieces that had crumbled away in the crossover event, floating and drifting lazily away from the platform as though we were in outer space. The majority of the yellow-and-black 'arm' that usually raised once a person had paid the parking fee flipped end over end as it spun slowly away from me.

"W-what the _fuck_!" the guard's voice shrieked, seeming to echo against the darkness like it might inside of a cave and not the endless _nothing_ it really was.

I scrambled to my feet and spun around, putting my heels on the edge of the ramp. The guard was wide eyed, blinking and breathing rapidly as he had scrambled back to the other side of my newest platform — about 3 meters in diameter. Luckily, part of the booth he had been occupying had come along for the ride, and he had his back braced against the cracked glass of the side of it that had been caught in the radius of effect.

"Oh no…" I ducked my head down, grasping at my hoodie and pulling it up to my nose like I smelled something awful. I definitely didn't want him remembering my face after this — if he already didn't have it seared into his brain. _Why hadn't I brought some kind of mask?_

"Is this…"? The man was digging his hand into the jagged edge of the glass behind him, but he didn't seem to notice. "I'm dead, aren't I? Oh Jesus…" he curled his knees up to his chin and shook, shifting his head this way and that.

"Uh, dude?" I called, stepping closer; being in the void seemed to restore some of my confidence; he couldn't do much to me here. It was _extremely_ likely that someone had noticed the gaping pit in the exit ramp of the parking garage by now, though, so I needed to jump the two of us back and continue up if I didn't want to get caught by the cops or the PRT.

"Who's there? Y-you're a _cape_!? You...what did you _do_ to me? Where am I?" he snapped his head around to look off to my right and reached for his belt, probably for a gun that wasn't there; he struggled to stand, cutting his hand even deeper on the glass. He winced in pain and released his hold, ducking his head.

_Well, here goes nothing…_

I lurched forward and charged at the man, closing the two meter gap between us in a second. He didn't have time to react, and by the time I had crashed into him and gripped his shoulders, I was already jumping us back to the real world — this time careful not to take any of the _debris_ with me.

He was stunned by the flash...and also by his head smashing against the tollbooth glass from my shove, but only for a moment. He must have been a cop in another life, because two seconds later I'm dazed, laying on my back, from a sucker punch to the left eye.

Thankfully, he seemed _much_ more interested in getting the hell away from me, as I heard him screaming and cussing as he fell into the two-meter crater the rift had taken with us as he tried to escape down the ramp. I palmed my throbbing eye and pulled myself to my feet. Huh. I was inside the toll booth now.

_C'mon, he's trapped. I can finish this and jump out of here._

"Help! Help me!" the guard started screaming. "Somebody!"

I stepped out of the sliding side door of the booth and bolted for the stairs, wobbling a bit as I had to run with one eye closed, and headed up one flight of stairs. I staggered out onto the second level, which was completely full, and had to steady myself against the 3-foot-tall yellow parking pillar from the ringing in my ear. I felt like I was going to black out.

_I really should have checked to see if his car was on the first level first…_

I ran, not wanting to second guess myself, bent over and squinting at each and every car, looking for that obnoxious red one I had burned into my memory. It wasn't _here_. I rounded the bend and sprinted back, gasping for air as I climbed to the third level. I half considered throwing my laptop away to speed myself up, but knew when the PRT showed up they'd be able to crack it and figure out who I am.

That is, if the guard didn't identify me or go to one of those sketch artists. Fuck me _sideways_.

I was nearing the end of the third level when I caught it: government plates on a bright red Dodge Viper, parked right by the elevators. I doubled over and coughed out a laugh, taking a moment to catch my breath.

The approaching sirens and squealing tires forced me into action, though. I approached the car and put my hands on the trunk, letting my power loose. A flickering, dark film rippled out from my hands and out into a sphere of dark black smoke. I mentally molded it so it surrounded the entire car with plenty of room to spare. I _could_ go bigger, but doing so would take out some of the other cars too, and I was only after _his_ car.

The film started to dissipate and I could see _into_ the void from my position inside my bubble of _whatever the hell_ my power was. This was important.

The translucent mirage of the black-and-white void changed and flickered into what I'd started building as my home base, from parts of the docks, abandoned buildings, and what have you. It wasn't much more than floating clumps of concrete, sand, and wood, but it was exactly where I wanted it.

"_Attention unknown parahuman!"_ a loudspeaker from somewhere on the ground level boomed out. "_The PRT has the block surrounded and the Protectorate is enroute; do not attempt to flee."_

I took a breath and _pushed_.

* * *

**End notes:** I've been super duper inspired by all the fanfics on here and on AO3 and just _had_ to start writing one of my own, especially since I'm also addicted to Gambit on D2. Just a heads up: I've not read Ward yet (I know) so you can be assured this will be spoiler free! The Worm universe is one of my favorites for world-building, so I am looking forward to what my brain pukes up. Transmat firing!


	2. The Sorriest Thing I Ever Saw

**Chapter 2: The Sorriest Thing I Ever Saw**

I'll admit, I probably spent at least ten minutes just smiling at the car as it sat on the floating platform inside my void-world, just imagining what Pulaski's face would look like when he realized his car was up and stolen.

He'd be upset. Like… he'd probably be pretty pissed. I hoped he was.

In the back of my mind, I also hoped he would lose some sleep over having his car kidnapped, even though I knew he had plenty of cash to just go to the dealership and buy a new one.

But still.

He would be thinking fuck that cape the whole time he was talking with the salesman and doing paperwork. He might even have to cough up a believable story for why he was in the market for a car to the salesman.

I know it probably made me a bad person — a villain — but it felt so right. Karmic, even.

Maybe I'm getting a complex. Ugh.

After arriving back at my home-base-slash-evil-lair and getting bored at staring at the Viper, I jumped the two-foot gap to the larger platform — about three feet lower than the car — in my archipelago of suspended concrete and Earth.

I took a seat down on the park bench that was situated about six feet from the edge — it was almost directly facing the car platform, but not quite. The piece I was on was maybe twenty-five feet in diameter and was one of my early acquisitions.

I'd taken it after my second day experimenting with my powers. One of the local parks provided ample opportunity for practice, since it was segmented into four quadrants by rows of trees, which made line of sight from nearby buildings and street traffic difficult.

Directly in the middle of my 'home' platform was most of an oak tree that had been at the epicenter of my jump. The area of effect of my abilities had sheared off the top-most branches, giving it a very "bulb-like" shape. The tree was still green and seemed alive, but I wasn't sure how much longer that would last in a place without any sunlight. The grass on two-thirds of the home platform was still green too, though, so maybe it wouldn't?

Powers were weird.

Before heading over to the much smaller alley platform, which was the closest anchor to my apartment in the real world, I stripped out of my hoodie and laid it across the park bench.

I was being super paranoid, I knew. However, I had no idea where any CCTV security might be on the two block walk back, and I definitely wanted to make at least a token effort to change my appearance from how I'd looked when I'd gone to the convention center.

So, sans hoodie, I long-stepped over to the meter-wide cone of another platform and jumped back to the muggy Chicago alley. Checking to make sure nobody had noticed my arrival, I headed toward the sidewalk and down the street.

My head throbbed as I passed a liquor store with a bright neon sign — I had to fight not to move any of the muscles on the left side of my face and only raise a hand to block the oppressive shine. As I got closer, the reality of my injury came into focus.

I hadn't looked in a mirror, but it felt like a serious injury. I'd also never been punched in the head by a full-grown man, so my measure might have been off.

I couldn't just call an ambulance or show up at the local urgi-care, though. That guy probably told the PRT he clocked me, and with a general description of "white girl with a swollen face", if I tried to go anywhere to get medical attention then they were sure to find me.

Would they even consider a punch to the face to be serious enough to warrant a doctor visit, though?

Ugh. I didn't know. My mind was spinning up impossible scenarios as I tried to mentally outsmart some PRT detective who had probably not even finished his sweep of the parking garage.

I was already over two miles away and they couldn't track my movements. Breathe, stupid. You're fine. I chanted that mantra in my head as I crossed the street and then crossed it again, turning the corner.

A couple of preppy-looking women staggered out of a bar and headed my way, one of the blondes giggling like a maniac and only managing not to swerve into the row of parked cars thanks to her taller friend holding her elbow in a vice. I ducked my head and swerved out into the street, walking along the side of the parked cars so they wouldn't catch sight of my face.

Thankfully, they paid me no mind.

I shuffled around in my hoodie pockets for my keys and buzzed myself into the building with my keyfob. If my eye got really bad, I'd have to go somewhere. I resolved not to risk permanent injury to my head or, heaven forbid, losing part of my vision.

No. No no no. Breath in, stupid. I'm fine.

The walk up to the third floor was quiet and nobody was in sight. It wasn't surprising, though — it was a weeknight and it had to be close to nine or ten in the evening. I thought back. What time had I arrived to the convention center?

I moved my eye, squinting, and flinched at the pain and a sudden dizziness. Ugh. I might have a concussion. Fuck.

As I closed the door behind me, I went on mental auto-pilot as I slung my laptop satchel onto my bed and kicked off my pants, stepping into a pair of sweats I picked up off the floor. I honestly didn't feel up to a shower and having hot water blast my face, so I opted to deal with my probably-stinky self in the morning.

My roommate Gary, bag of Cheetos in hand, found me sitting in the dark in the living room watching Pulp Fiction with a plastic bag of ice pushed against my cheekbone. I wasn't really paying attention; I was more staring through the TV like a damn zombie.

I couldn't sleep, though. Doctors in movies always said you had to stay awake if you had a head injury. But for how long? A day? Did I have to have Gary watch me to make sure I didn't die?

"Sasha, do you know if the internet guy is going tomorrow or…" he trailed off, squinting in the dim light. "Are you okay? Uh, like, did someone…?" he pointed at my face.

"No," I grunted, adjusting my angle on the couch. "Allergic reaction." Maybe short answers would make him go away. I tilted my left side away from him.

"But like, wouldn't it be…" he trailed off, the hand not holding the chips coming up to his unshaven chin and over his lips, tapping them. "I just mean to say, if someone hurt you, I can, uh…" he trailed off again, as though he wasn't sure what he thought he would do to help.

"It wasn't…" I hesitated, thinking of a lie. "I didn't eat something — I just got something on me that I'm allergic to." Vague answers were key. Keep it generic.

He blinked, continuing to stare at the side of my face. I could see the gears turning, but I hoped he would just shut the fuck up and go away so I wouldn't end up saying something that let him onto the fact that I did something really stupid with powers nobody knew I had.

I eyed the chips and took a sniff of the air on a hunch, quirking my lips. Huh.

"Are you high?" I accused, knowing that a lot of the time at this hour he was, since he worked nights moonlighting as a server admin to some podunk dark web something. He was always getting high when he thought Alice and I weren't awake to smell it.

"N-no," his eyes widened and he took a step back. He fucking was. "I just...I want to think if you were my sister and someone did something, then I would...y'know?"

"Well, guess what? I'm not your sister," I snapped, more awake now, wincing at the tug at some cheek muscle I'd probably torn. "Now fuck off."

"Fine! Fine, fine, maso-shi-shtic bitch," he mumbled as he shuffled away, Cheetos held to his chest.

* * *

I emailed my professors early in the morning, letting them know I wouldn't be in due to an allergy flare-up. I'd nodded off a few minutes at a time on the couch, but between my excitement at actually doing something besides stealing patches of other people's yards and the throbbing of my face, there was no way I was getting anything resembling a good night's sleep.

Coffee, in general, made my pain worse, but I still found myself brewing a pot as the sun started to glow through the shades of my room. I swiveled in my desk chair and powered on my desktop.

My laptop, however, was sitting on my bed. I'd known it was broken from hearing the clinking inside my bag of something that had gotten loose in the altercation with the guard, but the spider-web crack that ran from one corner of the screen to the other made me hesitant to power it on and see if it worked at all.

And that really sucked, since I used the damn thing for all of my on-campus classes.

Luckily, thankfully, Mr. Smith's anal insistence on source control meant I could pull my classwork down from the college repository from any computer, so the progress on my capstone project wasn't lost — at most, I'd lost some of my class notes.

Honestly, though, I couldn't bring myself to even open the repository. I wanted, more than anything, to space out and crawl through Parahumans Online. So, even though I felt the pit in my stomach forming at how my procrastination would impact my project's timeline if I didn't get anything done today, I opened up my browser and got to crawling.

And it really was crawling — I guess I knew why Gary was asking about it. It looks like our internet was still capped at half of what we'd been paying for.

I guess I was expecting my antics to be front-page news on the forums after they finally loaded, but I wasn't. Bagrat, one of the regulars, had created a thread about the attack, but the details were vague and not too many users had commented on it yet.

I clicked through to the top thread, which was an announcement that the Brockton Bay Wards were getting a new member — Shadow Stalker. I skimmed it, not really paying attention.

Was I a little upset that some kid joining a team got more attention than me? Yeah. It was kind of stupid and self centered; I knew that. It didn't make it any less disappointing for me.

Trying to distract myself, I decided to just bite the bullet and try to boot up my laptop. I gently arranged it on my cluttered desk, pushing away my sticky notes and other knick-knacks, and pushed the power button.

The fan turned on and the aluminum body hummed, but the screen didn't even flicker.

That...honestly wasn't the worst — at least it powered on. It meant there was no way to work on it, but I could probably recover some of the stuff from its hard drive that wasn't already in my repositories — personal stuff and, of course, some of my notes and thoughts on cape names and ideas on what to do with my power.

I put my ice-pack down and reached around the back of my computer tower, fumbling for a moment before finding the HDMI input cable. I nudged it out and my computer monitor flashed blue for a moment, showing "no signal", before going dark.

The end I pulled out went into the HDMI port on the side of my laptop and after an eternity of nothing, my laptop's desktop screen flickered to life on my monitor. I gave it a few experimental flicks and clicks to make sure the keyboard was still working — it was — before starting my data-offload onto a couple of flash drives.

This...could take a while. I grabbed my empty coffee cup and padded into the shared kitchen, pouring some into it from the half-full pot. It was only warm now, but I didn't want to bother with the microwave and settled for frowning into the almost-cold liquid as it went down my throat. Once it was empty, I went to refill it again.

On second thought…

I grabbed the whole pot, taking both it and my mug into my bedroom to wait for the sun to finish rising.

* * *

**End notes:** So, I have a few ideas for some other Destiny-inspired capes that will hopefully come into play. I also have some vague idea of the direction I'm going to be taking this story. Y'know. Like...in general.

I'm also trying _really_ hard not to make this character OP as fuck. I usually have a hard time with that, so we'll just see. I _do_ already have her cape name picked out. It's cheesy but it does fit with the theme if you have played a few rounds of Gambit.


	3. PHO Interlude 1

**Chapter 3: PHO Interlude #1**

**Welcome to the Parahumans Online message boards.**

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* * *

**Topic: Alan Pulaski's car got WRECKED last night!  
In: Boards ➤ News ➤ Events ➤ America  
Bagrat** (Original Poster) (Veteran Member) (The Guy in the Know)  
Posted on August 9th, 2010:

So, those of you who live near Chicago probably already heard about this a couple of hours ago, but apparently last night FCC's chairman Alan Pulaski's car was destroyed in a secure parking garage while he was presenting in the McCormick Place convention center (the big one downtown).

Why am I posting this here? Well, I just got word that the damage was done by a new cape (name still unknown) who seemed to target his car _specifically_. Check the pics below:

**[Link]**

He also carved out a chunk of the west-facing exit ramp to the parking garage and part of the toll booth. It was at street level, so I've got plenty of sources on that:

**[Link 1]**

**[Link 2]**

**[Link 3]**

Doesn't look to be a hero, judging by his actions. Any thoughts on their powers? Maybe some kind of shaker or blaster?

Edit 1: No word yet from the FCC (obviously) but Mr. Pulaski did post on his personal Twitter account that he was fine.

Edit 2: Oh wow! Ok, so apparently the cape is female. The PRT released a new statement after interviewing a security guard (**Link**). She apparently teleported the guard and a portion of the ramp and toll booth somewhere dark and then she brought him and herself back before going up to, I guess, teleport Mr. Pulaski's car (not destroy it). No word on where the chunks of concrete or the car are as of now.

**(Showing page 76 of 102)**

**TRJ**  
Replied on August 9th, 2010:  
Welcome to Chicago. Enjoy your stay!

**Doom2012**  
Replied on August 10th, 2010:  
Maybe he should have purchased the premium PRT response time package if he wanted his car not to get shit on.

**Bagrat **(Original Poster) (Veteran Member) (The Guy in the Know)  
Replied on August 10th, 2010:  
White Fairy: No, Those are the only photos I have been able to gather up. If you have anything else, PLEASE send them my way.

**TheGnat**  
Replied on August 10th, 2010:  
Doom2012 like what, dude? That's not a thing.

**Sep7agon** (Veteran Member)  
Replied on August 10th, 2010:  
TheGnat: He's making a joke about AP's policies on net neutrality being killed. Don't feel stupid, it was poorly constructed.

**Anon_3301**  
Replied on August 10th, 2010:  
Holy shit, she was actually for real. I actually woke my parents up screaming when I saw the convention center on the news. Virtual beers all around!

Edit: Guys chill. You are KILLING my inbox. I don't know who she is! Some anon posted on a dev gambit channel about how she got powers and wanted ideas on what to do with them. I don't have her username or anything because there ARE none on the chanel.

**White Fairy** (Veteran Member)  
Replied on August 10th, 2010:  
Bagrat: I might whenever my brother gets up (he works night shift). I'll bug him in a few hours and will keep you posted.

**Doom2012**  
Replied on August 10th, 2010:  
Anon, I'll give you a dollar if you can be more vague. Has this new cape been posting somewhere I don't know about?

**Nod**  
Replied on August 10th, 2010:  
Anon: *implies mystery cape bragged about nuking a gov't official's car and nobody else on PHO knows about it but him*

Seems legit. Tell us more.

**XxVoid_CowboyxX**  
Replied on August 10th, 2010:  
Nod : he might not be able to. Posting, seeking, or speculating on a cape's identity is against the rules. You'll get dinged by the mods (trust me).

**End of Page. ****1****, ****2****, ****3****, ****4****, ****5** … **75****, 76, ****77** … **98****, ****99****, ****100****, ****101****, ****102**

* * *

**Topic: Maybe Shuffle had a sex change?  
In: Boards ➤ OffTopic ➤ America ➤ Chicago  
DiviniumPow3red** (Original Poster)  
Posted on August 10th, 2010:

Fact: Shuffle can teleport landscape / terrain and stuff and is based in Chicago

Fact: This "new cape" teleported a piece of a **concrete ramp** and an **entire car** (with concrete under it). There was an eyewitness who gave a **video testimony** of the experience.

Fact: it was a young-ish girl who the gate guard said teleported him.

I rest my case. No further questions, your honor.

**(Showing page 2 of 3)**

**Mason_7**  
Replied on August 11th, 2010:  
Op is a fgt

**SwagMachine69**  
Replied on August 11th, 2010:  
At first I was considering the possibility of the girl maybe being Shuffle's daughter, distant family member, or whatever-the-fuck, but this is waaaaaay more likely.

**ZlodeyKl**  
Replied on August 11th, 2010:  
Hi everybody

I looking for new meetings just for chat and english practise.

I'm 24, like books,

also like traveling, studing at unversity, i'm from Russia.

Who wants chat with me, pls pm me or write WA +77025558670

**Sep7agon** (Veteran Member)  
Replied on August 11th, 2010:  
kys

**Rapidd**  
Replied on August 11th, 2010:  
SwagMachine69: PRT should issue OP a thinker rating for this quality shitpost.

**The_Shuffle** (Verified Cape) (Chicago Protectorate)  
Replied on August 11th, 2010:  
I just want to let you know I had to learn about this post from my wife. She thought it was hilarious. I don't think I'm allowed to comment further about the topic due to PR reasons.

It wasn't me! That's all I really wanted to say.

**DiviniumPow3red** (Original Poster)  
Replied on August 11th, 2010:  
Senpai noticed me!

**ShellGameIzBack_v2**  
Replied on August 11th, 2010:  
Reported.

**RubberDuckyMmM  
**Replied on August 11th, 2010:  
ShellGame report deez nutz

**Doom2012  
**Replied on August 11th, 2010:  
Or maybe his car is just _really_ good at playing hide and seek?

**End of Page. ****1****, 2, ****3**

* * *

**End notes:** So, fun fact: I run an online forum and so the spam post in this thread is actually a real one we got from a Russian bot. The things I do for authenticity. Transmat firing!


	4. Mallrats

**Chapter 4: Mallrats**

I skipped classes the next couple days following my first outing as a cape. I'd told my professors and my two roommates the same story I'd told Gary — that it had been from an allergic reaction to something I'd eaten.

My left eye was swollen shut like I'd been attacked by an entire swarm of strawberries — the only thing on this Earth I was _actually _allergic to. Six hours of on-and-off cold compresses had thankfully revealed that there wasn't any permanent damage to my eyesight, but the socket still ached and the purple-turning-yellow area of the entire left side of my face still pulsed every time I moved my jaw or brow.

I took a sip of my coffee and leaned into the fresh freezer-pack wrapped in a towel, arm propped up on my desk as I squinted at my desktop monitor. I'd been browsing PHO and working on my programming capstone project — mostly browsing PHO, though, if I was being honest.

My other monitor had my _Gambit_ client open, which was currently capturing Gary's stream, my developer stream, and a few other vanilla news-ticker streams I'd configured filters for. Not a lot of people knew about the program or the gmbt protocol, but it was something a lot of my classmates used to pass around party invites, news, rumers, and the like.

_Gambit_ was basically like a great big bulletin board that you could read and submit topics through with channels, keywords, and other filters. The only differences between it and something more board-based like PHO was that it was decentralized and ran on each user's computers, and that there were no databases or user accounts — everything was transmitted real-time and you only got to read what someone put out there if you were tuned into their channel at the time.

It was _very_ popular with both tinkers and normal technologically-forward people, since messages were authenticated with public RSA 15360 keys, which were sent with each one. It made the entire platform anonymous and yet completely reliable as a news outlet, since the _Gambit_ client was able to link the public keys of each message to other messages from the same private key, confirming that the same user was posting without relying on a database of user accounts. The client was open source and had a hash signature so that users could verify each version was authentic.

It was also for these reasons that it was very _unpopular_ with people who didn't _computer_ very well.

I felt… I wasn't sure. Giddy, maybe. Giddy and sore and I kept drawing my eyes to the cape news _Gambit_ tab. I clicked it and skimmed the feed. Most of it was _not_ about my outing, but a _lot_ of them were — maybe one out of five and one out of three for local Chicago news outlets.

**Cape attack shines light on FCC's ethical malfeasance**

Malfeasance...

I opened my web browser and typed it into search. A definition popped up as a suggested answer.

_Wrongdoing, especially by a public official or celebrity._

I rolled the word over my tongue like I had the past twenty cape names. I knew I needed to go out and publicly name myself or else the PRT or PHO would do it for me. There were already a few tentative names floating around: _Telefrag_, _Swap_, and my least favorite, _Jump Sphere_.

I shivered. Yeah, no way, dude. My own picks were a little more fitting — which was probably partly because nobody knew exactly what my powers could do besides teleporting things: _Void_ or _Blight_. I'd been favoring Blight ever since realizing my jumping to the void created these strange floating black orbs in the real world if I went back and forth to the same spot a few times. I'd never had the chance to figure out what they were for or what they did, but they were very solid and seemed to be immovable during the few hours they lasted.

_Malfeasance._

Hmm... It seemed to sort of fit, and it was certainly what I wanted to bring to people's attention with _Scumbag Pulaski's_ behavior and resulting policies on the internet as a whole. _Malfeasance_. I didn't know, it just seemed more serious and powerful than _Blight_ or _Void_ and _definitely_ not as lame as _Jump Sphere_.

It also sounded way more like a villain name, but...well, I guess I kind of was a villain in the eyes of the public. Even if what I did was totally justified, I did kind of steal his car. I didn't want to go out killing people like _The Folk_ or _Iron Banner_, but I also absolutely did not see myself joining up with a hero group and rescuing kittens from trees.

"Ugh," I groaned as I smiled, adjusting the ice pack. I scraped my lip with my front teeth and clicked open my VPN client, making sure I was still cloaked. "Alright, alright, alright." I chanted, opening up the new post option in Gambit and selecting the private key I'd used on the #WebDev public channel when I'd originally asked for opinions on what I should do with my powers.

_[#WebDev] Fuck up Alan Pulaski's Viper cuz he's a POS dickbag._  
**Signature: UpbAftD86G2ASJww … [expand] [aka: ideaBro] [unset nickname]**

Why yes. Don't mind if I do. Or..._did_, I guessed.

I moved to the post body of the #WebDev channel and started typing.

[#WebDev] This is Malfeasance. I'm the cape who pwnd Pulaski's car the other night. Check the signature against my last post to confirm. I figured I'd get the word out before the idiots on PHO named me something retarded. I'll be making an account on PHO in

I paused typing and clicked back to PHO in my browser, going to the registration section and typing _Malfeasance_ into the user registration field. Thankfully, miraculously, the name was not taken. Small mercies, right? I quickly registered the new account and switched back to _Gambit_, backspacing a bit.

_I've registered an account on PHO under the same name and will get it verified in a few days. Go ahead and AMA in the meantime and thanks for the great idea :)_  
**Signature: srRjaQ7rrD69qmVc ... [expand] [you]**

I hit send and leaned back in my chair, taking a sip of coffee and waiting for responses to come through.

* * *

**Private message from A_real:**

**Malfeasance:** What're the requirements for cape verification?  
**A_real:** You will need to provide a photograph of yourself using your power while holding up a piece of paper with your username on it. You can upload it via the badge verification option in your profile settings. You will need to select "Cape" as a badge before uploading, otherwise the system won't even give you the option.  
**Malfeasance:** Thanks. Is it ok if I scrub the images exif data before uploading? I'm kinda paranoid about these kinds of things.  
**A_real *New Message*:** As long as you do not modify the image itself, you are free to remove metadata, yes. Our system strips it as part of the upload process, but for verification it makes no difference.

"Seriously, Sasha," Alice whined, causing me to look up from my phone at her. I reached for a cold french fry and switched the phone's screen off. "If I'd known that you just wanted to walk around — _sit_ around," she corrected, "with your face in your phone, I would have asked Gary to go with me."

"Yeah, good luck getting him out of his cave," I mumbled into another fry.

"What was that?"

"S-sorry, I've just been a bit distracted with this project I'm working on," I stuttered, trying to stay as vague as possible. It _was_ believable. Like Gary, our server-admin roommate, I could hole up in my room for days working on development side-projects. "Are you...done?" I eyed her two large plastic bags filled with clothes and the paper one that looked to hold a couple scented candles.

"Not a chance!" she reached for a few of my fries and I batted her hand away, scooting my food court tray closer. "Rude!" she rolled her eyes at me and shifted her feet, adjusting her grip on the bags.

"So like, can we head back to the car and put these in the trunk?" she asked. "I don't want to carry these around and we still have a level and a half to go before we've gone through the whole place."

"Why can't you go by yourself?" I gave her a look, my skin prickling in annoyance. I'd only agreed to go with her so that I could head to the costume shop that was a few blocks away — so I could look for a costume for my _Malfeasance_ persona. Luckily, it was a little under two months until Halloween and it was expected for normal people to be buying things like that.

_Unluckily_, I didn't have a car of my own, since I was a poor college student, so I had to carpool with my other roommate, Alice.

"Well," she grimaced, as though it hurt to answer. "I just don't want to walk around in the parking garage by myself. Y'know, since that cape attack in one the other night."

"Ooooh," I grinned, eating another fry. "And big, bad _me_ is going to protect you from the parahumans lurking in the car garage? Want me to throw your bags at them?"

"Don't be such a bitch." She eyed the badly-done concealer I'd applied to my eye. "I...just figured there's strength in numbers."

"Fine, yeah," I said, standing up and grabbing my lunch tray. I didn't really want to argue, and lazy as I was, if this helped us get to the costume shop faster…

We walked out of the food court and up the escalators, and were headed out the automated doors to the parking garage when I spotted a crowd gathered around the soft-padded children's "play area" that occupied an open space — near some of the pretzel booths. Alice didn't seem to be interested.

"Alice!" I called, pausing and turning back toward the crowd. "Wait up; I wanna see what's going on over here!"

She groaned and drooped her shoulders as she made it to the padded feet-mats of the automated doors, triggering them open. Her dramatic display was drowned out by clapping from the crowd and a muted flash of red.

"Ok," Alice huffed, holding out one of the larger plastic bags. "But you're carrying some of these if we're — hey, is that a cape?"

And it was. As we approached, I caught sight of woman standing in the center of the crowd of parents and clapping children. She was dressed in multi-layered spandex — a long-sleeve black top and bottom with a looser short-sleeve red top and skirt on top, with red boots. Red crystalline gauntlets and shin-guards were attached to her limbs and the same crystal substance made up her helmet, which had a solid, smooth, semi-transparent texture to it that obscured her face.

"Here you go!" her muffled voice came out from behind her helmet. She handed a little boy what looked to be the most _life like_ cat statue I'd ever seen — and it looked to be made out of solid..._whatever_ her armor was made of. It _looked_ like ruby, but I doubted she would be handing out something so valuable like this.

"Th-thank you, m-mis!" the boy stuttered, ducking back into the croud and into what had to be his mother's arms, holding the cat statue out to the parent like she hadn't _just_ seen the cape give it to him.

"Shit, that's _Garnett_!" Alice hissed in excitement, standing on her tiptoes and putting her precious shopping bags on the ground like she didn't care at all if they got taken. She pulled out her phone and snapped a few pics. "Oh, man, I think this is the _first time_ she's done a public appearance since joining the wards. I'm gonna get _so_ much rep for this on PHO!"

"I didn't know you were such a cape groupie," I raised my eyebrows at her.

"Uh," she looked at me and the bags, not seeming to register what I said. She bit her lip and looked up at me. "Watch the bags, kay?"

Before I could respond, she bulldozed her five-foot-three frame through the parents and onlookers and to the teenage superhero, clasping her hands in front of her face like she was saying a prayer — if you could pray while bouncing up and down.

"Fuck me…" I mumbled, grabbing the two bags she'd dropped and dragged them back toward the pretzel stand.

The pretzel guy gave me a look when I sat down in one of the two-person tables without ordering, but I pretended not to notice.

It was probably going to be a while until we left the mall.

* * *

**End notes:** Hey friends. Well, this finally got updated. Hurray!

Listen, hey, has anyone else been having trouble with copy-pasting text from Google Docs into the FF editor? It completely strips out italics / bold / formatting. It's _really_ fucking annoying, actually.


	5. Acting Bad, Looking Good

**Chapter 5: Acting Bad, Looking Good**

I smacked the mask lightly against the crumbling concrete barrier, dusting the glitter that remained on it with my fingers — a few of them I had to pry up with my fingernails and the palms of my hands. The spray paint had dried quite a lot of the sparkly stuff in place.

The Halloween store had paid off big time. I'd bought a few different plain white masks — like the kind you'd see in an art class — and had painted the most human-looking one of them a jet black after sprinkling glitter on it. The effect was like a starry night, the specs that the glitter blocked looking like dots of light. It was the effect I was going for on the budget I was on — like twenty dollars for everything, apart from my coat.

The ratty olive-tan trench coat probably weighed a couple pounds heavier twenty years ago, but constant use and washings had worn it down. I'd picked it up at a Goodwill store for sixteen bucks; the buttons didn't work, but it had plenty of pockets for anything I'd need to take with me.

Pulling it on, I tugged at the collar and gave it an experimental sway as I walked back and forth. Not _bad_. Not really _amazing_, but it would work for now. I could always upgrade later.

The rest of my ensemble was just regular clothes. I had black socks, old black sneakers I'd found in my closet that had needed new strings, a black t-shirt, and a black pair of jeans. I frowned at the look, eyeing the olive coat in disgust now that I saw it with the rest of what I was wearing. I _almost_ opted not to keep it as I looked at myself through my phone's screen, but recognized that the long flowing thing kept my body shape from being easily recognizable and it _was_ something I'd never _ever_ wear in my civilian guise, so it did help distance my two identities.

I'd just have to find a better coat later. Maybe a grey or a white — or black. I'd just have to see.

I heard a car honk in the distance and ducked behind the barrier instinctively, but it was just traffic — it looked to be the end of rush hour and the sun was starting to get low behind the cityscape, making the water of Lake Michigan behind me appear like ink.

The Steelworkers Park was an up-and-coming industrial park that also functioned as a marina — or it _would_ in the future, I guessed. Right now it was only half-built-up and was covered in weeds and dust. The barriers I was using to hide were about twenty feet high and were either used for hoisting ships up or were a half-done foundation for a building. It was hard to say which, but the space was wide and open and far enough away from a populated area that I could use it to get my costume ready and take my verification photo for PHO.

I'd originally tried the photoshoot in the void on the platform I'd taken along with Alan's Viper so that people knew _without a doubt_ that I was the real deal, but I quickly figured out that apparently I also had super night vision. The camera on my phone _would not_ show anything on the screen when I tried. With the flash on, I could get an _okay_ picture, but the light also caught what looked like wisps of smoke or fog that while _I_ couldn't see it, really obfuscated the view in the photos.

So, I was gonna do this here, in the late afternoon light.

I strapped the mask on my face and tried not to cough at the still strong spray paint scent that clung to the paper material. My phone propped up on part of the rubble of one of the barriers, I double checked my look.

I looked...pretty ok. The olive coat was _still_ bothering me, but if I looked past it, the mask looked pretty epic. I may have been biased, though. It _definitely_ reminded me of the sky in the void, of the twinkling lights that seemed closer to you than the stars did on Earth against the black sky.

My dark brown, chin-length wiry hair frizzed out from behind the mask like I'd been struck by lightning, but it was not as noticeable as I'd feared. The black mask on black shirt made it blend in — if anything, it was the skin of my neck that stood out more. The sickly-pale color of it on my black color scheme was striking. It wasn't _bad_, either, but it was identifiable paired with the hair.

I combed my fingers through the wisps and strands, tucking as much of it as I could behind the strap holding the mask to my face. The extra volume made my nose scrunch up against the paper texture and I got another strong _whiff_ of paint.

Ugh. That was going to feel unpleasant after a few minutes.

"Alrighty," I rubbed my palms together, put my phone back in my jacket, and took a step back. I breathed in and out and let my power loose, opening my palms to the sky.

Black smoke leaked out of my fingers and palms and began collecting in the brush and weeds that surrounded me. I wanted to make this memorable, so I made sure to allow my power time to seep out into a large-enough area.

As I'd figured out from my previous experiments, doing this caused cancerous looking bulbs of darkness to form, floating all around me like a twenties film reel. In between these _blights_, the air started to shimmer and drain of color.

Once I had an area about fifty-feet in diameter, I started peering through to the void. These powers were a learning experience and I _obviously_ didn't exactly have them mastered, but I did know that whatever let me open portals and teleport things to the void also let me choose where I wanted to appear there.

Once the terrain was floating in the void, I could also see through to the _real_ world if I was near the terrain I took — like a two-way mirror — and jump back to that same location in the real world. It was how I got the guard back to the same spot I had jumped him from.

But the _really_ interesting part about my powers was that the distance between two points on Earth was _not_ the same in the void. I could jump a piece of boardwalk from the marina into the void and then jump a piece of land twenty miles away right _next_ to it, floating in empty space only a foot away.

With enough prep time, I could, in _theory_, cross vast distances on Earth in moments by taking a shortcut through the void — as long as I'd collected anchored terrain from those locations on Earth.

That was something I had been thinking about and _would_ think about for a long time, probably. But right now, it meant I was going to jump this fifty-foot piece of junk-land right next to the parking-garage platform I'd taken a few nights ago.

The mirage in the dark fog blurred and I could see the cluster of platforms I'd been collecting. I mentally moved my field of vision a few meters below the garage platform the Dodge Viper was still parked on and gave the mental _push_ of my powers. In a familiar flash of light and pop of my ears, the real world disintegrated away outside of the fifty-foot bubble of space I'd prepared — the hum of downtown traffic replaced by the ominous hum of nothingness.

I pulled my mask off and tilted my head up, scrunching my nose at the position this put me in. I really _didn't_ think I could pull the car's platform back with me from up where it was.

Moving terrain from Earth to here was not as _exact_ or as _clear_ as I'd like. Case in point: the smaller, jagged semi-cone of concrete that the Dodge Viper was parked on was about four meters over my head and off center by two meters or so. If I could get up to the parking garage platform and could somehow _push_ the fucking car down to the newest grassy bit of Earth I'd moved below it, I was sure it would land without falling off and into the abyss.

The issue was I could only _barely_ touch part of the reinforced steel that peeked out of the jagged concrete when I jumped. I was no athlete; I wasn't fat, but I was definitely not the kind of girl who could jump more than a foot off the ground. And getting up there was just not happening.

I flipped my mask back on and stepped to the edge of the grassy plain, teleporting to the edge of the crater I'd left back on Earth — probably fifteen feet at the deepest point, but sloping down like the inside of an icecream cone. It was getting dark fast — the sun was even lower in the sky.

Ugh.

I walked back to part of the crumbled concrete barrier and put my hand against it, letting the darkness seep out of my hand and surround a meter or so around me. I pushed through to the void and took the smaller platform with me — this time two feet up and one foot out from the grassy plain, creating a sort of spiral-staircase effect with the floating platforms — with the car at the top and the grassy bit at the bottom.

Taking a breath at what I was about to do, I clambered onto the small part of the concrete barrier that had come with me, and reached my hand up, grasping the steel pipe that was crookedly parallel with the surface of the parking garage platform and yanking my 150-pound ass up and onto it.

"Fuck," I hissed as I banged my knee against part of the concrete that jutted out. I rolled toward the car and leaned against the passenger door as I waited for the stinging pain to fade. "That's a bruise."

Brushing it off as best I could, I hopped around to the driver's side door and tried the door handle. And of course, it was locked. I turned around and scanned my surroundings. I had less than two feet of room to maneuver around the car, so I leaned against it and shuffled sideways, keeping from the edge.

Around the rear of the car, I spotted a piece of concrete the size and shape of a liter of cola, which had come loose from the bulk of the platform and was hovering a few inches away from a larger section that was still attached via the steel poles. I crouched down and reached my hand out as far as it would go, keeping a hand attached to the bumper as I snagged the chunk from open space and brought it to my chest.

I shuffled back around, closed my eyes, and hurled the heavy rock at the driver's side window, shattering it. I half-expected the shards of glass to spin and bounce around the cab like everything else did, but to my surprise, the shards behaved like gravity was still a thing and scattered across the leather interior.

Of course, at that moment, the car alarm started going off and the headlights started flashing, making me flinch and shriek like a little girl.

"Forgot about the alarm," I mumbled to myself, looking around and letting myself feel a brief moment of panic before realizing that I was in my own dimension and there was nobody around to hear the alarm. "Chirp all you want, asshole."

I unlocked the door and carefully slid in, mindful of the glass. My hands gripped the gear shift and I pulled, but nothing happened. My hands automatically flew to the ignition, but there was no key to grab.

Oh, well _fuck_. Again.

I popped the visor, but I guess even the FCC chairman wasn't stupid enough to lock his keys in his car. I honked the horn a few times before climbing out and moving back to the trunk area.

"C'mon, _move!_" I grunted, putting my weight against the car. But, try as I might, I was _not_ a brute and was not capable of pushing a parked car over the edge of a floating platform. "Okay, think. Think think think."

I pushed my palms into my eye sockets and winced at the pressure I was putting on my left eye.

Could I jump the _platform_ back to the real world and let the car fall? Was that possible to do? If I did that, where would I stand while doing it? Or maybe I should jump the car back to the garage and take my verification photos that way?

Why the hell did my powers have to be so _aggravating_? If I could _fucking_ move the car to Steelworkers Park instead of just back to the garage, it would be _so much easier_.

I pounded my fists a few more times before deciding to just jump the car back to the garage and then take it back after I had my photos. I didn't want to give him his car _back_, after all. That would be dumb.

Sighing, I reached into my coat and took out the black spray paint. I gave it a shake and started on the driver's side, spelling out my cape name.

** MALFEASANCE**

Once I was done, I tossed the paint can into the front seat of the car and reached for my phone, making sure I still had it. Satisfied, I opened my power up and was greeted by a twenty-foot-or-so fog projection of the parking garage, the ghostly concrete melting seamlessly into the part I was standing on.

I combed my eyes around the space, but it seemed to be deserted. Heh. I guess they _had_ to close it down after I carved out the exit ramp. Grinning, I flipped on my mask, re-tucked my hair, and pushed back into the real world.

The parking structure shook and the hollow chirping of the car alarm was suddenly shrieking from the close quarters of the garage.

"Alright," I crouched down next to the car and brought out my phone. I took a few quick ones with the phone tilted this way and that. I had to be quick about it, since I knew people were going to wonder why an abandoned car garage had a car alarm going off.

After twenty seconds or so, I put the phone back and re-concentrated on the car, letting the dark fog roll out of my hands and around the space again. I let it flow a bit longer than when I moved it the first time, so that I had more platform to move around. I didn't know what would happen if I tried to jump the same terrain twice, but it was clear by the cracks in the ground and the uneven surface that it was _not_ like undoing the damage.

I just had to hope taking more of the terrain with me would make it safer — or at least not any riskier. To be extra safe, I positioned the exit position of the platform directly over the grassy plain, and _pushed_.

_Thankfully_ nothing went wrong. The larger platform came with me without issue, along with the car, and I was able to drop down and jump back to the Steelworkers Park.

I took the bus back to my apartment on the north side, which gave me plenty of time to review the replies on the _Gambit_ post I made — I'd been getting email alerts all day. I couldn't _respond_ till I got home, since I didn't carry my private key around, but I could certainly review them.

**#WebDev feed from 4:00pm cst — 6:00pm cst**

_[#WebDev] srRjaQ7: buuuuuuuuulshit #WanabeCapes  
__**Signature: 8MnJHzc2YS6sELm5 … [expand] [set nickname]**_

_[#WebDev] What if her cape power is killing IE? That would be a cape I could get behind  
__**Signature: t5LnSRctaqhm7Gy7 … [expand] [set nickname]**_

_[#WebDev] t5L uh bro, her power is making dickbags cars disappear if you didn't hear it on the news  
__**Signature: C2M3HdgRWAFsEsev … [expand] [set nickname]**_

_[#WebDev] Hey, so my prof wants this overlay on this image but his psudoelement trick won't work in my browser. I have empty content but it's still not working. halp  
__**Signature: dYZ8pKjwPNBfgRAL … [expand] [set nickname]**_

_[#WebDev] srRja: If legit can you melt the car of the jerk who keeps upping the price of my bros insulin?  
__**Signature: wBXrQw6xWgDU9rBn … [expand] [set nickname]**_

_[#WebDev] srR what are your powers?  
__**Signature: gvd4UUuUVjMUrD8q … [expand] [set nickname]**_

_[#WebDev] srRj: If you are taking requests, how about going after debt collectors or #ProjectMeyhem it and blow up the credit card companies durden style? #HisNameIsRobertPaulson  
__**Signature: ZLm5Y4x4eRWgzu76 … [expand] [set nickname]**_

_[#WebDev] Do I get two more wishes?  
__**Signature: xZVzxgVV3uNHEqxA … [expand] [aka: ideaBro] [unset nickname]**_

_[#WebDev] dYZ8p: those don't work on img tags. Make the pic a bg on a div and you should be good to use :before or :after.  
__**Signature: Xvrhk4h4JvWRauYQ … [expand] [set nickname]**_

**End of messages.**

I closed my phone once I was two stops away from the one near my apartment and kept myself aware so I could signal the driver that I needed to get off. A few people shuffled off the bus and I moved to the edge of the row and reached up to pull the stop cord. As the bus slowed to the stop, my phone dinged again.

Nobody else got off with me and I made my way down the block and toward the apartment complex. My phone dinged again and I reached into my pocket to see the text displayed on the screen.

_Got 20 more coming your way tomorrow or the next day. Switching out DNS too and will forward you details soon. Coins in your BC._

_-WM._

I made a face, forgetting about my not-so-legitimate part time job with Wu. I shook my head and shoved the phone back in my pocket, resolved to worry about _that_ stuff another day.

* * *

**End notes:** Hello there. I had this one on my computer for a while and finally got around to posting it. I've been MEGA back into Worm Fanfiction recently, so there might be hope for this fic, yet. Here's hoping!


End file.
